


Life's Not Easy When Everyone Thinks You're Twelve

by AngeNoir



Series: Don't Stumble as You Navigate the World (College AU) [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 00:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He just wanted to have his coffee in peace. He didn't realize he needed <em>permission</em>, thanks, assholes.</p><p>Which still didn't explain why he couldn't stop staring at said assholes. Or, rather, one of the (not-really-one-of-the) assholes in particular.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life's Not Easy When Everyone Thinks You're Twelve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bitterblue-tardis](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=bitterblue-tardis).



> Written as a secret santa gift for [bitterblue-tardis](http://bitterblue-tardis.tumblr.com/).

Tony Stark did not enjoy the holiday season as a child, with its fancy parties, the tiny suits and bowties he had to wear and not get dirty, and the ridiculous adults his parents made him be nice to even though they were all much dumber than he was. Now, in college, he disliked it even more – at least in the boarding school, all the kids were dragged back home. Their parents either actually wanted them back or didn’t want to give the impression to society that they couldn’t care less about their children. But Tony Stark was in college, now, two semesters from graduating at the age of seventeen from MIT, and his parents didn’t actually stay at home. Tony himself could go home – after all, even though he was in Boston, he could make his way to the mansion in New York City easy enough.

Jarvis, however, had passed away some time ago. Maria and Howard had never replaced him – why bother? Tony was out of the house and didn’t need a minder anymore. And no one could replace the staid butler who had put up with more of Tony’s shit than Tony cared to admit to. Jarvis had been his entire world and having that world come crashing down around Tony’s ears had only made the holidays that much harder.

But at MIT, everyone had gone home, and Tony was left by himself because Rhodey had gone off to Florida with some fellow Air Force ROTC buddies. Tiberius had gone home to  _his_  father, because Ty actually had parents who cared about him. Beyond Rhodey and Ty, Tony had precious little to hold him at MIT. He had an apartment across Charles River Basin, almost a straight shot down Massachusetts Avenue, and Rhodey crashed on his couch more often than not simply because Tony wouldn’t wish the dorms on anyone. Then again, Rhodey only ever crashed on Tony’s couch when his roommate had someone over or a party was on their floor, so maybe Rhodey enjoyed all that.

In any case, Tony Stark did not enjoy the holidays, he was alone for the second time during the season, and he was bored enough to leave the two bedroom apartment and wander around the streets a while, searching for his caffeine fix. The small coffeehouse he wandered into was fairly deserted – most students went home for the holidays, obviously, plus it was nearly ten pm – so Tony had no trouble getting his coffee (black, extra espresso) and curling up in one of the seats with the notebook he had brought.

The door blew open and bunch of young adults – most likely college kids, especially considering that quite a few of them seemed drunk – filed in, filling the otherwise most quiet café with noise and bustle. Tony scowled at them and curled in further on himself, scratching designs for the robot he had in mind out in harsh ink lines.

There were three blond guys, two who were big jocks and one that was not as football-esque as the others but still pretty buff. Two black-haired guys, too – one just as football-esque as the two blonds but one a lanky, slim guy who glowered a lot. (Tony instantly picked that one as his favorite.) There was also one brown-haired guy who wasn’t as buff as the blonds and the black-haired dude, but not as skinny as the other black-haired dude. Then there were three girls, two brunettes that were also tall, and one petite red-haired chick who looked insanely hot. All of them were (obviously) loud, three of them (the biggest blond, smallest blond, and buff black-haired dude) were just as obviously wasted, and one of the brunette girls looked on the far side of tipsy. Tony watched as the not-drunk blond moved to the counter to order coffee, and then the small-blond guy moved over to Tony.

“Hey, hey kid. What’re you doing out so late?” he demanded, slurring the words slightly. “Don’t you have a bedtime?”

“Fuck you,” Tony growled, and hunched over his notebook.

The blond narrowed his eyes at Tony and gestured at the dark sky. “It’s fucking midnight—”

“Ten oh eight,” Tony muttered.

“—and you’re, what, twelve, and sitting in a coffee shop by yourself? What, is your mom working in a club or something and leaves you here?”

Tony glanced up, teeth bared in something that was very much not a smile, and gave the guy a once-over. “You’re drunk, you’re in college, you’re a fucking dumbass who probably is scrambling to stay in whatever community college took pity on you, and you’re blocking my light. Fuck. Off.”

“I don’t wanna have to punch a kid but I will!” the guy threatened, a red flush curling up the back of his neck. “And for the record, I’m in  _Northeastern_  University, you little asswipe!”

“Clint,” the brown-haired guy said mildly, and the guy took a step back, glaring. Tony ignored him completely.

“Are you really picking on the little kid?” the red-headed girl asked incredulously. “I knew you were bad, Clint, but not that bad.”

Tony huffed and glared at all of them. “Fuck you  _all_ , I’m sixteen fucking years old!”

“Sure got a mouth on him,” the buff-black-haired dude drawled.

“Phil, he’s in our spot!” Clint whined at the brown-haired guy, and Tony bit the inside of his cheek viciously. There were more of them than him, this wasn’t his usual stomping grounds, and the holidays were shitty enough without this thrown on top of it. Stark men don’t cry, he told himself angrily as he stood up and marched to the door.

“Aw, don’t be like that, c’mon, you can sit there. You won’t bother us,” the buff-black-haired dude offered, moving over to Tony.

Tony gave him a freezing glare. “You’ll bother  _me_ ,” he said, voice flat and pointed. “Fuck off, you and the rest of your gang of morons.”

“Leave the poor kid alone; he hasn’t even finished his coffee. C’mon, kid, come sit down. It’s fine, Clint’s just a natural asshole,” the not-drunk brunette offered.

“Who says I want to be around you assholes anyway?” Tony demanded.

Suddenly, the slim-black-haired dude was right beside him, bending down to murmur in his ear, “You’re alone and it’s Christmas Eve. We’re the closest to company you’re obviously going to find. Besides, your coffee’s not done. It’d be a shame to waste it, Tony Stark.”

“Bravo, you read the newspapers and know who I am,” Tony bit out, but he kept his voice low and tensed his body ever so slightly. It was a bit unlikely for him to be kidnapped here, now, but this guy read as a creep and Tony wasn’t particularly drunk enough to tolerate the closeness.

“Hey, guys, who’s this?”

It was the not-drunk blond, holding quite a few orders of coffee that he began passing out. He was hot and dorky and Tony gave him a blatant once-over that had the guy blushing endearingly red.

“I’m out of here,” Tony said, just because he could, and tried not to feel so alone as they fell into the chairs and sofa, laughing and talking and forgetting about his presence within moments.

***

“Tony!”

Tony grunted and didn’t look up. MIT was, for the most part, closed over the holidays, but Tony was a rich kid and his dad donated a ton of money to the college, and he acted as a mini-RA for certain engineering professors who were more tolerable than the rest of the old farts that taught at this university.

There was a knocking on the door again, and someone called out, “Tony!”

Irritated enough by the noise, Tony looked up to see that irritating prick, Richards, and von Doom. Von Doom was kinda crazy, but at least he wasn’t as pretentions as fucking Reed Richards.

Still. The condition of being able to work in the lab when it would otherwise be closed was to let the grad students in as well.

With a sigh, he moved over to the door and cracked it open, glaring at the two of them. “The fuck do you want?” he demanded.

“We wanted to try and work some bugs out of our coding,” Richards said, but von Doom just glowered and shoved his way in. Since Tony couldn’t physically do anything, he settled for glaring and retreating to his own corner, where he was working on welding the intricate wiring inside the robotic arm.

It was hours later that banging once more came from the door, dragging Tony out of his coding haze. It was dark, now, and apparently von Doom and Richards had gone around to turn on the lights. Not that Tony had needed them, particularly – he had three computer screens up and was trying to code the voice recognition software, since the base of the robot was complete at the moment. Looking over, he saw Sue Storm standing outside. Storm went to Simmons College – and Tony only knew that because he’d been at a party over there and seen Richards desperately trying to look like he fit in. Tony fit in everywhere, of course; any party he went to, he was the life of. College students didn’t notice or care that he was sixteen (most of the time, they were all underage as well) and more than a few girls had found him charming and ‘adorable’ which he used shamelessly. His indiscretions were trumpeted in every major newspaper and his father continuously mocked and derided his choices, but if you couldn’t live a lot in college, when the hell could you? Not like Tony would have a lot of freedom once he got out and Howard shoved him into SI’s R&D department, after all…

Richards had gone over to the door and opened it up. Seemed like there was some kind of holiday bash for Christmas day over at one of the dorms in Simmons College; Storm was asking him over. Tony hesitated, looking at the work in front of him, and remembered that quiet taunt that that slim black-haired dude had said yesterday.

“Hey, can anyone just drop in? Because I think my eyes are starting to bleed from all this,” he said, standing up from the computers and saving all progress before locking everything down.

Storm frowned – she always treated him like her kid brother, which annoyed Tony to no end – but Richards looked uneasily at him. “Um, I think it’s – is it invitation only?”

“Not particularly,” Storm said, but she looked like she wanted to lie right then. Tony just grinned wide and easy.

“We can take my car,” he offered.

Richards’ eyes lit up, and Storm’s frown deepened into a scowl.

***

Which was how Tony found himself, at three in the morning, staring at a group of college students who were all hanging out with one another. He was pretty certain he recognized not-drunk blond guy, drunk blond guy, small-drunk blond guy, and buff-black-haired dude from yesterday night. There were more people with them, a lot more, and Tony looked at them wistfully when he saw slim-black-haired dude lean close to not-drunk blond guy and whisper in his ear.

Feeling as if he was eavesdropping on something private – something that he didn’t deserve, and would never have, and wow, Tony had hit the self-pity part of being drunk faster than he had expected, probably because of all the holiday stuff decorating everywhere – Tony stumbled his way out of the dorm and stood in the cold air in just his AC/DC t-shirt, acutely aware of the cold. Had he had a coat when he’d come? It might be in his car. If he could remember where he parked his car—

“Hey, I know you, don’t I?”

Tony blearily stared at the twenty-something hot blond guy that was currently keeping Tony upright. “Not-drunk-blond guy,” Tony responded, because hey, Tony was drunk, he was horny, and this guy was hot as fuck, as he’d noticed last night, and people came to parties like this either to get drunk or get laid. And people liked to fuck Tony; they told him so, over and over again. It was thrilling, apparently.

“What? Wait, didn’t I see you last night? Clint chased you out of Pavement, right? Man, I’m sorry for that, but how the hell are you so drunk right now? You smell like, I dunno, a keg or something.”

“Or something,” Tony snorted, and he leaned against the guy’s chest. “You’re warm.”

The guy laughed uncomfortably. “And you’re too young to be out this late, at a party with  _alcohol_ , for Pete’s sake. Where are your parents? Let me take you home.”

“’Less you gotta boat no way you taking me to Italy,” Tony mumbled into the guy’s shirt. He smelled good, of gingerbread and peppermint and  _home_  and it made Tony want to tear up for some reason. Stark men don’t cry, though.

“ _Italy_?”

The guy sounded so scandalized that Tony started to laugh and ended up doubling over and puking in the bushes. Funnily enough, the guy stayed through all of that, rubbing Tony’s back and making noises about taking Tony to the hospital for alcohol poisoning.

That rouses Tony enough that he shakes his head, spits a couple of times, and then stands up woozily. “No hospital. ‘M fine. You know. Do you have a name?”

“What? Yes, I have a name, but you shouldn’t be here. You’re drunk; you probably have alcohol poisoning.”

Tony made a ‘pfft’ noise and ended up spitting more than he meant to. Licking his lips, he looked up at the guy and poked his bellybutton. “You can take me to my car. ‘S blue.”

“Okay, bad idea, and who the hell gives a car to a twelve-year old?”

Tony yanked himself back from the guy’s hold, indignant and pissed. “Not  _twelve_ ,” he spat caustically. “Two semesters away from graduating, fuck you very much!”

The guy just stared at him a moment, and Tony spun on his heel and began weaving away.

“Hey, just wait a minute—”

“Fuck off. Go back to your friends and leave me alone,” Tony growled.

Then the guy was right there, walking backwards, face so fucking adorable that Tony wanted to lean forward and kiss it. “Look, I’m sorry. My name’s Steve. What’s yours?”

“What’s—” Tony stopped and stared at him for a long moment. “What do you mean, what’s mine?”

That make the guy – Steve – frown. “Did you already introduce yourself?”

“No, but…” Tony trailed off, and then something warm began to grow in his chest, totally without his permission. “My name’s Tony.”

“Tony, right. Where are you staying, since I can’t take you to Italy?”

Licking his lips – did this guy really not recognize him? That was… sweet, and cute, in one way, and incredibly freeing in another – Tony waved vaguely in the direction of Massachusetts Avenue. “Live in the Fenway apartments.”

“Wow. You’re rich, huh?”

Tony couldn’t stifle the hysterical giggles. This, however, made Steve frown and make more noises about hospitals.

“Look, no, okay, I’m in college, I’ve drunk this much before, more even, I’m fine, okay, just – I’ll just walk home, or no, I have a car—”

“You’re not driving,” Steve said severely, and proceeded to take off his coat and place it around Tony’s body, which was about the time that Tony noticed how badly his teeth had been chattering and his body had been shivering.

The gesture made Tony smile, and he leaned against Steve again, who obligingly tucked an arm around Tony’s shoulders and held him tight. “And, what, you’re just gonna walk me home, then? I’m a big boy, Steve.”

“It’s three in the morning,” Steve countered.

Tony walked for a few moments in silence before huffing. “I can’t find the point in that sentence at all.”

“Look, it’ll make me feel better to walk you home. Why are your parents in Italy?”

“Because I’m in college and they don’t have to have an obligatory holiday party at home anymore,” Tony responded promptly. “You’re fucking hot, d’you know that?”

Steve flushed red, even as he frowned severely. “Language, Tony. That’s not proper.”

“Do you do everything that’s proper, then?” Tony asked coyly, running a hand over Steve’s chest.

The tips of Steve’s ears went pink, and Tony watched in amazement as Steve tried to smooth out his features. “I try, yes, stop that, Tony.”

“Hmm.” Tony dropped his hand and instead twisted around to pinch Steve’s ass.

Steve made the most adorable yelping sound.

“Seriously, Tony, stop that!”

Tony stared at him a minute before pouting and crossing his arms – nearly causing the jacket to fall off, and Steve was there right away, resettling it on Tony’s shoulders. Tony stared at him through squinted eyes and shook his head slowly. “You’re just that clean-cut, aren’t you, boy scout?”

“Y-yes?” Steve responded, confused. “Which apartment?”

Turning, Tony realized they’d reached his apartment complex, and he sighed heavily before digging into his pocket. “You’re welcome to come up,” he said, and nearly fell backwards off the stairs.

“You’re drunk enough to need me to come up,” Steve responded wryly.

“Maybe,” Tony admitted, and snuggled closer to Steve as Steve helped him maneuver up two flights of stairs and then stood outside Tony’s door as he fumbled with the lock.

When the door was finally open, though, he helped Tony inside. Tony was aware that he was babbling something about Rhodey, but at least he hadn’t puked again. It was going to happen again, soon, and he said as much to Steve who promptly steered him to the bathroom and took off Tony’s shoes.

“There’s only one bed, sorry.”

“Oh, I can just leave,” Steve began, but Tony grabbed Steve’s sleeve, suddenly desperate not to be alone, because his apartment was just too fucking empty and everyone else had someone today – well, yesterday – and now it was the day after Christmas and Tony was still alone.

But he said none of that. Instead, he just swallowed hard and said, “Please stay?”

And for a moment, it looked like Steve was going to say no, that Steve was ready to leave and walk out, but then he let out a long sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m a fool, aren’t I?”

***

Tony woke up to smell coffee. Glorious, glorious coffee, and he moaned into the king-sized bed and tried not to throw up on the sheets. Stumbling out of the room – aware that he was only in his boxers, and that there had been a warm spot in his bed, and wondering if he’d managed to get laid last night – he could smell eggs and hear someone talking.

“—I know. But he’s Tony Stark, you know?”

Tony froze outside of the kitchen and waited there, silent.

“C’mon, man, you practically dared me.”

Tony bit his lip, old insecurities rushing back. Of course Steve had known who he was – he was just being polite. And yeah, Tony didn’t ache the way that he did after a good fuck, but who knew? He might have blown Steve and just didn’t remember; a lot of people liked to fuck Tony Stark, son of Howard Stark. Or maybe Steve just wanted to say that he’d been in Tony Stark’s house; no one could claim that, after all, not since Tony had taken that one girl home and she’d stolen some of his tech.

Or maybe Steve’s friends dared him to actually talk to Tony, which hurt more than anything else.

Swallowing hard, he schooled his face into a calm mask and breezed into the room. Steve was on his cell, and when he saw Tony he said, “I’ll call you back, okay?”

“No need to stop on my account. Was it good? Hate for you to leave and I didn’t give you my best.”

Steve blinked at Tony in confusion, putting the phone back in his pocket. “Was what good?”

Tony smiled, fake and false and so, so big no one ever saw how fake it was. “The sex. I’m assuming that’s why you walked me home, right?”

“What?! No, Tony – no, we didn’t have sex. God, no, you’re underage!” Steve looked so scandalized that Tony momentarily felt sorry for the words – but people had agendas, and if Steve didn’t want sex there was something else he wanted.

“Well, then maybe it wasn’t so good. Didn’t find what you were looking for? Doesn’t look like you walked through my office, at any rate. Or was it really just a dare?”

“What? Tony, you’re not making any sense.”

“No, you know what’s not making sense?” Tony snapped, and maybe it was the holidays, maybe it was the insistent headache at the back of his eyes, maybe it was just that he was tired of the cold and he had thought someone had genuinely cared, for once, but tears pricked the corner of his eyes. “Why the hell did you pretend not to know me? You obviously do. Why the hell even follow me out of that party? Why walk me home, and why the hell are you still here in the morning, unless you didn’t get what you wanted? Did you try to make a move and I was just too passed out for it to go anywhere? You wanna blowjob, then, repayment in kind?”

Steve stared at him, mouth agape, and then abruptly his face harshened. “I pretended not to know you because when Loki said your name in the coffee shop you looked so terrified, okay? I followed you because you looked like you were going to brain yourself walking. I’m here in the morning because I don’t drink but Clint and Thor drink enough to put the rest of the world to shame and I know how to deal with hangovers. I don’t know what I did to you to give you such a low opinion of me. But if you’re going to act like the dick everyone says you are, then maybe I shouldn’t be here at all.”

Stunned, Tony watched Steve stomp out of the kitchen and slam the door behind him.

***

“Hey, Richards, do you know a Thor? Or a Loki?”

Richards looked up at Tony with mild surprise. “I do,” he said curiously. “Why do you want to know?”

Inwardly crowing to himself – the names were unusual enough that he’d figured it’d be easier to track down them than a Clint or a Phil – Tony put on an unaffected look. “I have something I need to return.”

“Hmm. Well, I know that they both go to Northeastern, along with Ben.”

It took a moment for Tony to match up Ben to Grimm, the kid who was always hanging around Richards. And Clint had mentioned he went to Northeastern, too. Maybe they all went there? “Okay, thanks, man. Do you know what dorm they live in?”

“Ah – no, not particularly.”

“Well, thanks anyway. Hey, are those their legal names?”

Richards paused and frowned. “You know, I’m not sure.”

***

Turned out those  _were_  their legal names. Also, they lived on campus, and, once Tony had gotten past the paltry security on their records, shared rooms with a James Barnes and a Clint Barton.

So, three in the afternoon, he banged on the door that had James Barnes and Loki Odinsson, because Tony knew Clint was an asshole and was hoping that these two weren’t assholes.

Of course, then the slim-black-haired dude opened the door and Tony cursed under his breath.

“Quite,” the guy said, smiling strangely. “Why are you here, Tony Stark?”

“I just want to find Steve and give something back to him,” Tony grumbled. “Tell me where I can find him and I’ll be out of your hair.”

The man folded his arms and smirked mockingly. “What’s it worth to you?”

Tony’s face went cold, and uncertainty flashed over the guy’s face as if he wasn’t sure what just happened. “What do you want?” Tony snapped back. “I’m tired of this and – no, you know what, this doesn’t matter all that much anyway. He left it, he knows where I live, he can come looking for it if he wants it.”

Before the guy could say anything else, Tony turned to stalk away and nearly walked face-first into Clint. Or rather, nearly slammed his nose into Clint’s chest, because Tony was still a short-ass kid and hated it. Clint grunted and took a step back, and then his eyes widened. “What the hell?” he demanded. “Why the hell are you here? Who asked you around?”

“No one,” Tony snarled back, voice bitter, and he turned on his heel and stalked away, ignoring the slim-black-haired dude calling out his name.

***

It was seven in the evening, and Tony was caught up in his programming codes when the doorbell rang. He paused, frowning. Rhodey wasn’t due back until the second of January, Ty had pretty much made it clear that what they had was casual and refused to visit Tony’s apartment unless there was absolutely no other choice. Tony couldn’t think of anyone else who’d come visiting.

Hesitant, he palmed his phone and peered out the peep hole.

Steve stood on his doorstep.

Swearing under his breath – he hadn’t meant for Steve to actually come over, in fact he’d have been willing to wash his hands of the whole thing – he opened the door and folded his arms. “Want that blowjob now?”

“What? What the  _fuck_?! Is that how you answer doors?” Steve asked, staring.

Remembering that he had gone out earlier in the day – to disastrous results – to try and apologize for making assumptions, Tony swallowed the rest of his words and instead said carefully, “Look, why are you here?”

“Loki and Clint told me you came over, looking for me. And, well, I felt bad for what they said, and they felt bad for saying it.”

“S’cool. Nothing I haven’t heard before. Or done before,” Tony said carelessly, lifting one shoulder defiantly.

And – and such a  _sad_  look came over Steve’s face that Tony was momentarily taken aback, staring in surprise as Steve muttered, “Well. Well, you shouldn’t have. Done stuff like that before.”

Tony… didn’t know how to answer that. For a minute, Steve stood there, looking confused and miserable, and Tony stood there, just looking confused, before that something warm from last night began to grow in Tony’s chest and he stepped aside as if it didn’t matter. “You wanna come in?”

The smile Steve gave Tony made – well, no, it didn’t make everything right for Tony, but it was warmth, and comfort, and friendship all rolled into one, and that was a lot more than Tony could ever hope getting.

Steve stepped inside.


End file.
